I have historically been split on the idea of writing buddies.
When I was a kid I was still in that foolish frame of mind that said you should never tell anyone your ideas because they might steal them. I suppose that concept finds ready soil in the self-centered mind of a twelve-year-old (and some of us never quite shake it!). I wrote in solitude—and in longhand, a habit which I still turn to when I'm having trouble with a scene or sentence.
In high school I learned the joy of hanging out with someone else who loved writing. Paul was a poet, and we would challenge each other by passing long notes full of our latest efforts or excerpts from song lyrics we especially liked between classes. It was, for the first time, fun to experience a sense of community and to think that maybe having someone else around to help one focus was a good thing. It certainly did make me productive. I don't have any of those poems anymore, but I do remember quite a few of them and the images sneak into my fiction every once in a while. Now I wish I'd kept more of them. I am always learning that as a writer, nothing is ever wasted.
In college, and afterward, I backslid. I went to writing as to a refuge—a refuge from friend drama, from relationship stress, from the undermining doubt about where I was and what I was going to end up with in this education thing—and whether it was even what I wanted to have (I was an art major—such doubts are warranted). When emotion storms tried to swamp my boat I made a beeline for the computer. I wrote solo, in the dark, by candlelight if possible (another habit that remains with me today if I'm having difficulty with a very atmospheric or emotional scene).
After a series of low-level supervisory and management jobs (during which I did my best to dig out a short story or The Novel and try hacking away at it again, sporadically) I said screw it all and moved to the east coast to try my hand at being an artist. Much to my surprise, I succeeded (at the cost of much of my sanity, and my credit rating). After a brief bounce back with the parents, my level of newly-developed skill and niche painting fame won me my current job. All those years and fears and here I ended up an artist anyway. But…I still wanted the writing thing.
And so when I met a couple of writer friends down here who actually worked at stuff and occasionally finished it (instead of abandoning projects for months or even years as was my habit), I started hanging out with them and talking writing. Strangely, this led to actually writing. And then, to actually attempting NaNoWriMo (and failing; I still hadn't given myself permission to write absolutely horrid first drafts). And then to working on new stories. And to WINNING NaNoWriMo. And finally to finishing stories, and getting accepted to Viable Paradise XIV (thus giving me MORE potential writing buddies!), and then finishing my first real novel this year.
During the course of all of this, with hindsight being the type to walk up and smack a girl in the face, I have noticed a few things about support and writing buddies that I wish I would have known back in college. They might have slid me a few inches further along the tightrope. In that spirit, I offer them here.
1. Share Your Ideas (but not too much). There is a fine line between talking over a new concept with a buddy and sliding into ONLY talking about the project and never actually working on it. My current writing buddy and I often get around the most dangerous point of this by only mentioning the project after we've started it. After that we bring up things that we're specifically happy with or having trouble with as we progress. It's just enough to get some feedback, to keep us moving, and to make us go back and dip our brains into the story if we've been neglecting it.
2. Try Writing Communally. This doesn't work for everyone and there are days it doesn't even work for us, when people are just too distracted and the rest of us let them pull us into the Happy Land of Cat Waxing. But done right, in true NaNoWriMo style, you get a couple (or a gang!) of friends together and you set a writing challenge—either a certain number of words or a time limit. We do time limits, and then compare word counts at the end of the half hour or hour. This absolutely guarantees that you WILL be productive, dammit, or by God you will be shamed. And you should NEVER underestimate the motivational value of potential shame.
3. Try Setting a Writing Night. Life happens. Stuff distracts us. And the evil doubting Inner Editor wants us to believe that our writing is never as important as the other stuff in our lives. Well, bullhooey! Try giving your Inner Editor a good kick in the chops by scheduling a weekly Writing Night! This has really worked for me, because I'm a terminally busy person. Unless I hound myself it is way too easy for a day to slip by (oh, I'll make it up tomorrow) and then another day (well dang it, there's the weekend, right?) and then the weekend attacks (news at ten) and all the days after become a blur and writing has gone out of my head again (until I get really grouchy and depressed and it takes me half a day to realize that it's because I haven't written in two weeks). Writing Night MAKES me sit down and touch base with my current project at least once a week. At which point, guilt and motivational shame can kick in (see 2, above), especially when paired with writing challenges. And I can ride that momentum for a day or two after, at least—even more if I check in regularly with my writing buddies!
4. Try Never to Consider Yourself Above or Below Your Writing Buddy. Even if you're lucky enough to hang out in a coffeeshop and scribble with the ghost of Ray Bradbury, never let yourself get hung up on it. For a while when writing with my current buddy I was guilty of thinking that I'd progressed farther along in my writing than he is. This is a horrible trap because just because someone is still working on their own writing doesn't mean that they can't see the gaping flaws in yours. And then there are the one or two free cards everyone gets. Buddy one might suck at dialogue but her ideas are fresher; maybe she'll inspire you. Buddy two might create amazing worlds but can't get away from standard fantasy tropes, and you can help each other out if you like to push the boundaries but suck at settings. Buddy three might be Neil Stephenson (if so, I hate you), in which case you may spend most of your writing time together wondering why you find it equally plausible that he could be a college professor at Miskatonic U or the leader of a fanatical cult that performs all their rituals in encrypted mnemonic code (possibly while wearing stylish black leather trenchcoats and katanas). Either way—if you're hung up on how your work compares to the writing of your buddies, chances are you're overlooking a chance to learn something from the people around you (like, why "Clang"?).
But I digress.
At the back of it all, nothing is ever wasted (except perhaps when the North Coast Grand Cru gets opened). Sit down and write with a buddy—in person, in chat, via email—and see how your writing habits might benefit.
